The Deadly Seven
by DarkPhoenix713
Summary: What if Truth governed not only the world of Fullmetal Alchemist, but of Harry Potter as well? How would it regard Voldemort's crime against magic? After the killing curse rebounds on Voldemort, his horcruxes should be enough to safeguard his life. Truth may have something else in mind, however. This is something I thought up randomly - check it out and let me know what you think!


Hello! This is a little 'concept drabble' that I may or may not choose to continue. I'll see what kind of response I get. It was spawned out of my writers block with another few fics I am working on (for those following those fics, don't worry, this actually helps me refresh my imagination and whatnot (for those not following those fics, here is a blatant suggestion to do so!)) and I decided to get it down. I actually wanted to write a fic where Harry goes to Amestris, but this is what happened.

The basic concept is that Voldemort committed the same sort of taboo as human transmutation when he mutilated his soul, and Truth governs that as well. It's a multi-universe kind of thing, and I'm up for suggestions about what should happen with it, because I honestly have no idea.

I hope you enjoy what little I have down!

Disclaimers: I do not own characters or concepts from either the Harry Potter or the Fullmetal Alchemist canon.

* * *

HPFMA

"Avada Kedavra!"

A high voice screamed the words, and a sickly green glow illuminated the cluttered nursery and it's inhabitants. The sprawled form of the red-headed woman was pale, and the bright light created a horrible parody of life in her blank, emerald eyes. The child at whom the spell was aimed was wide-eyed, lips trembling in reaction to the dark-cloaked man and his fallen mother.

There was a sudden pulse, and the deathly energy rebounded on its caster. The last thing Lord Voldemort saw was blazing green eyes, and a bloody lightning bolt, before everything went black.

0000oooo0000

There was an imperceptible shift in reality, and Tom Riddle, the self-styled Lord Voldemort, suddenly found himself in a vast, empty expanse of white. Although he could now see, the whiteness was almost more terrible than the all consuming darkness that had followed the rebounded killing curse. The darkness that had seemed to last both and instant and for eternity had at least allowed him to imagine that there might be something more, something behind the black. This blankness went on and on forever, and Tom Riddle knew that he was utterly alone. And that terrified him.

_Well well well, you've been a naughty Dark Lord, haven't you ... Mr Riddle._

The voice, if it could be called a voice, echoed all around him and within him, and seemed to linger in the emptiness that was the white plane of existence. Tom Riddle turned, and he saw a – a _non-figure_, silhouetted by shadow, indistinct save for the all-too visible teeth, that were bared in a mocking grin. The blackness that outlined the thing was constantly shifting, and jagged splinters of darkness seemed to break the figure up into several pieces. Looking at the sharp lines, something resonated in Tom Riddle's soul – or what was left of it – but he quickly drew his attention back to the thing.

"Who are you?" He asked sharply, "and where am I?"

_Who am I? I am the one you call the world, the universe, god, truth, all, one, _here, the figure leaned forward, and it's grin grew broader,_ and I am you._

Tom Riddle drew himself up coldly. Voldemort, the Dark Lord, had been stripped away from him, and he was reduced to the weak mortal he had been originally, but that did not mean he would be cowed by a faceless shade.

"There is no God. There is power, and I am myself. I have harnessed power beyond any that others' have grasped, and I will not be fooled by the likes of you!" This he said in a ringing voice, his eyes wide and glaring. But where this manner of speaking would have had his Death Eaters cowering, and his enemies pale with fright, this self-proclaimed 'Truth' threw it's head back and laughed.

_Oh, Mr Dark Lord, I assure you that that is not the case. And that power you have sought and claimed will be your undoing._

"No," said Tom Riddle firmly, unwilling to admit that he was unnerved, "I cannot die. I have taken steps past all others to ensure that I will live. You cannot keep me here."

Truth smirked.

_Oh indeed, Mr Dark Lord. You have broken the rules rather badly, haven't you? And now the rules will break you. It is only equivalent exchange, so it is rather fitting._

As Truth said this, the cracks in its figure sharpened and seemed to draw in all the darkness of existence. Tom Riddle found his eyes irresistibly drawn into observing them. There were six distinct gashes through the figure, and on closer inspection, dull, sickly colours leaked out of the blackness. The one that cut down the right leg from the hip was infused with a dark, somnolent blue that shifted sluggishly. Cutting across the abdomen was a dark, dirty yellow that roiled as if trying to consume the edges of the channel. There was a deep gash across the groin, that radiated a smouldering, dusky red. Two lines mirrored each other across the chest, each wrapping around a shoulder and almost meeting in a 'V' over the heart. One contained a sickly, poisonous green, and the other was a darker shade of forest, that was less eye-catching than its twin but somehow more all-encompassing. These lines of coloured darkness seemed to radiate from a deep chasm over the heart, which was a roiling, pitch-black that seemed conscious and malicious. Finally, there was a ragged furrow quite separate from the other five, that cut across the featureless face. It reminded Tom Riddle of a lightning bolt, and it glowed with a stready, furious sooty red. The lines combined to give the figure a rather horrifying appearance, and Tom Riddle hazily remembered one of the statements it had made: _I am you._

'That cannot be', Tom Riddle thought, 'I am the most powerful sorcerer in the world! I am not this broken – thing!'

Truth was still smirking at him, the dark lightning bolt across its face making it look lopsided and sinister.

_It just so happens that there was someone else that wanted to be more than they were, Mr Dark Lord. You're right – you are not dead, so you can't stay here forever. But you are not alive, either. Everything must balance, Mr Dark Lord, and this thing I have with me will fill in what you are missing. And since you want so much to keep on existing, I will let you. For a price._

Truth was leering at him, and Tom Riddle suddenly knew fear.

_You thought you were so clever with your pretty Hor-crux-es_ Truth said, drawing out the word in a playful, sing-song manner. _I'd like you to meet a friend of mine, Mr Homunculous._

Suddenly, there was a dark ball beside Truth. A single, horror-filled eye was darting between Truth and Tom Riddle.

_Mr Homunculous also thought of splitting himself up. He wanted to become God. And now, there's just enough left of him to fill in what you're missing. I hope you're happy together, Mr. Dark Lord._

As it said this, a doorway that Tom Riddle hadn't noticed opened, and grasping hands snaked out to latch on to him and the dark ball. Tom Riddle was frozen in terror, and the ball was somehow screaming without a mouth. They were drawn inexorably into the gaping frame, and just before the door swung shut, Tom Riddle regained his senses and started flailing in a panic. It was useless though; they were being dragged through the darkness, and it was so painful. It was an agony beyond even the making of Horcruxes, or the rebounded killing curse. The dark ball shrieked as it was pulled apart, and suddenly portions of it flew off. There were several echoes of impacts that resonated through Tom Riddle's being, and the last thing he saw before he succumbed to the pain was the agonized glare of the Homunculous as it moved closer and closer to his chest.

* * *

AN: So? Thoughts? I realize that Voldemort isn't being all bat-shit insane, but hey, he just died, and I think that the Truth strips you down to what you fundamentally ARE, so really he's just Tom Riddle, angsty wizard from the muggle orphanage. This takes place after the end of FMA when Homunculous gets pulled into Truth, and after Voldemort casts the killing curse at Harry and it rebounds.

Please review! I'd love to hear your thoughts on this! If I get a good response I might try tackling it as a multi-chapter fic, so there's some incentive for you review-shy readers ;)


End file.
